When I Realized It, It's You
by autumn desiree
Summary: Unable to confess his feelings in person, Hubert decides to leave a series of notes to lead Pascal in discovering his affections.
1. First Note

**When I Realize It, It's You**

* * *

_Hunched over a machine_

_Nimble fingers deftly_

_Twist my heart to spark_

Pascal scrunched her nose as she read the short poem scribbled with calligraphic flourish in one of her notes. Who wrote this? The problem of before vanished as she crossed her legs and held the sheet up to the ceiling, as though the face of the writer would appear. She turned the paper around in different angles. She'd never seen that script before. The letters held a refined aura, like that of a prince, and the words both ignited and engulfed in their intensity. Simple words, simple phrases, yet they held a pregnant meaning.

She smiled and grabbed a pair of scissors to snip the note out. What a pleasant surprise in this long day! It gave her mind a chance to slow down and recharge. A sigh left her lips as she placed it inside an empty folder. The jumble of scrap metal and cryas became a puzzle, and she quickly connected the dots to their correct order. Smiling, she grabbed a wrench and set to work.

The clock struck twelve. She wiped the sweat from her brow, glaring at the mountain of junk. She hoped to use the machine to introduce energy to the cryas fragment to induce a fission of the static energy, but it failed to reach critical mass. She walked back to her pile of notes and grabbed a pen and began scribbling down solutions to the problem. A knock on her door startled her and her pen streaked across the paper. She sighed and rose to answer the door.

Hubert stood in front of her, holding a tray with tea, sliced bananas, and nuts. "You can't subsist on bananas alone," he explained, scanning for a place to put it down, "And I'd hate for your research to be hindered by malnutrition." Unable to find a clear spot, he created one by swiping his arm and knocking several scattered sheets of paper onto the floor. She wouldn't mind, it would blend with the sea of notes on the floor. "How did it go today?"

She shrugged, "The twinkie-dink didn't go with the pa-donk and squibble together like I hoped."

His eyes softened, "I see." Pascal spoke in a language of her own. He walked over to her labor and inspected the results. To build a machine as complex as this in one day represented her genius. What sort of things went on in that mind of hers?

Pascal popped the slices of bananas in her mouth one after another until her cheeks could hold no more. "Thanksh for the food, Little Bro!"

"Hubert," he whispered, leaning into the machine and pretending to brush off dust. "It's not a problem. As I said, I'd hate for your research to be hampered by malnutrition."

She giggled and walked away. He glanced at the tray, "Pascal," he said as a Mother would a child. An impish smile appeared on her face. "You can't eat bananas alone!" He grabbed the bowl of nuts and stomped to her.

A grunt escaped her lips as she bolted for the door. "No," she cried. As Hubert lunged after her, she slipped on a note and fell flat on her face.

"Are you okay," he asked, dropping to his knees and reaching out to her shoulder for support.

She rubbed her temple, "Yeah, I think so."

"I'll go find Cheria."

"There's no need. She's sleeping now anyway."

"Nonsense," he replied, and from his tone she knew he would not accept any opposition. He handed her the bowl of nuts and exited the room. She sighed and walked to her bed and sat, absently sticking nuts in her mouth.

A moment later Cheria opened the door, looking rather perturbed that her rest was interrupted. "Hubert said you needed healing," she asked with a yawn.

"I told him I would be fine," she replied, "But you know how Little Bro likes to lollylog and pollywonk."

"Yeah," she replied in that tone she used when she didn't quite understand her meaning but didn't want to push the subject further.

She carefully stepped to the bed. Pascal grabbed the folder with the note and placed it beside her. Cheria arched an eyebrow. She'd never seen Pascal take initiative like that. "What's in the folder?"

"A surprise," she said simply.

"A surprise?"

She opened it and handed her the note. Cheria's jaw dropped. "Pascal, this is a love poem!"

"A what," she laughed, "No, it's an ode to my machines."

Cheria pursed her lips. "No, it's an ode to _you_. The person is saying they're in love with you!"

"Love," she echoed.

Something like that would never cross Pascal's mind. Cheria sighed. "Who do you think left this for you?"

"I'm not sure. Lots of people come and go from this lab."

A small part of Cheria pitied Hubert and his uphill battle. Still, the idea struck her as rather romantic. "I think you should try and find out who it is." Pascal shrugged. Cheria sighed and held her hand to her forehead, muttering a quick spell. The warm light soothed and made her eyelids heavy. She looked to Cheria, knowing she slipped a sleeping spell but was unable to fight the drowsiness. "Sorry, that was a favor," she said, and her eyelids dropped before she could retort.

Cheria placed the folder on the nightstand. "I hope you have more of these up your sleeve, because she's not going to notice any time soon."

When Pascal woke that morning, the scattered papers were stacked in neat piles aside from a sheet that lay on the floor of her bed. She picked it up and her eyes widened. Another note!

_Crackling Bolts _

_Shatter the Sky_

_My Heart Stalls_

"Hm," she mused, "This is a love poem? For me?" Even though Cheria saw it that way, she couldn't see how it applied to love. This one must be about the monsters she kills! She placed it inside the folder with the first and sauntered to the machine. "Time to make you a new man," she exclaimed, grabbing a wrench and dismantling the parts.


	2. Second Note

**When I Realized It, It Was You**

* * *

Hubert woke to the sun blinding him through a window. He groaned and rubbed his eyes in a haze. Midday sun is overhead. _Midday._ He gasped and sat straight up in horror. The sudden movement sent a cracking pain down his spine. A muffled moan manifested in his throat.

If he woke up later than Pascal, who had a sleep charm inflicted by Cheria, he would have something to be embarrassed about. It took a good portion of the night to clean up her notes, and to leave bits of his own at that. Hopefully they would intrigue her enough to investigate further. Once something arrested her mind she would not escape until it was solved.

Unless she abandoned it with no solution in sight like Fendel. He shook his head in disagreement to that though, for should she show any signs of it he could always leave another clue to lead her on. His fingers fumbled on the nightstand for his glasses. A small miracle granted them a protection from any breakage. His moments with the Strahtan military did not give him that luxury. He placed them on and went to shower. During this small break he cherished the opportunity to bathe regularly.

As he stepped out of the water, someone pounded on his door. Thinking it Asbel or Malik, he wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the door. Instead of meeting his brother's eyes or looking up to his elder, he stared down at a pocket sized ball of energy.

The blood drained from his face. "P-Pascal," he gasped, staring at her in shock.

She pressed a finger to his chest, "You told Cheria to put a sleeping charm on me! That's not very nice Little Bro!"

Her finger bore a hole through his chest. He stumbled backwards, stammering, "I did it so you wouldn't be up all night working. You've hardly taken care of yourself this entire time and-"

She started laughing. He stared at her incredulously. "I'm not mad at you Little Bro. I just wanted you to know it's not nice."

He sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose to regain composure. "I won't promise I won't do it again if you fail to take care of yourself." He locked his blue eyes with her amber. "And that includes eating more than bananas."

She gave a half smile, "Sure thing Little Bro."

At that precise moment, her smile lit up his senses and he became aware of how little he wore and how close she stood to him. His body flushed red like a thermometer on a hot day.

Pascal's eyes flashed with curiosity. "Wow, what's going on Little Bro? Your body is red!"

He couldn't bring himself to answer her. Did she not notice he wore only a towel? Did she not care? Was he not a man to her? Her eyes wandered up and down his body. He broke out into a cold sweat. His heart beat as a hummingbird's wings. "Pa-pascal," he whispered.

"Hm," she locked eyes with his, eyebrows slightly raised, "You don't seem well. Did you catch a cold?"

"No," he replied through a clenched jaw, "It's not that at all..."

"Hm," she mused, leaning forward. He stepped backwards and she followed, trying to get a closer look at his flushed body. "There has to be something wrong with you. Let me looksie." He hit the edge of the bed and froze in horror. Her body stood a mere centimeter away from his. Soft breaths tickled his stomach and chest as she inspected every millimeter. She stood on the tips of her toes and placed a hand on his cheek.

As though she cast a spell, heat emanated from her hand throughout his body, melting the frozen cells. He reached behind him, grabbed the blanket, threw it over her head, and sprinted to the bathroom, slamming the door with a resounding thud.

Pascal stood under the blanket, confused. Hubert did not seem himself at all. And his body felt as hot as a fire cryas! She touched her cheek in comparison. Nothing. She frowned and pulled the blanket off her head. Maybe Cheria would know what was wrong and could help him. "I'm going to get Cheria," she announced.

He stood behind the door, body shaking from the adrenaline arousal. No explanations could be had without confessing his feelings. He silently prayed for her not to be upset with him as he waited for her to leave. When the door shut, he tentatively opened the bathroom door, peeking outside to make certain she did not bait and switch. The relief manifested into a long sigh. He needed to dress himself and regain composure for Cheria. It would not serve well to have a person versed in romance see the tizzy Pascal worked him into.

"G'oy, Captain," Pascal called, dashing and playfully bumping into the towering man. He grunted as she hit him. "Have you seen Cheria?"

"Cheria?"

"Yeah, Little Bro's as hot as a fire cryas and acting strange!"

He blinked in confusion. "What?"

Pascal sighed, "I went to his room to tell him that it's not cool to have Cheria put a sleep charm on me when there's work to be done. Then his body turned bright red and when I touched his cheek it was burning!"

"His body?"

Pascal cocked her head to the side, "Yeah, I guess I should've said he was only wearing a towel too. That's how I knew something is wrong because all of it changed color. He started sweating too, a lot. Anyway, when I put my hand on his cheek to check his temperature, he threw a blanket over my head and hid in the bathroom!"

Malik stared at her incredulously, then leaned back into a laugh. It echoed throughout the hall and continued for a long moment. Between labored breaths he reassured, "Don't worry, he's fine."

"He is?" Her brow wrinkled and she pursed her lips in suspicion.

"Yes. I'll go check up on him. You get back to your research."

She grinned. "Thanks!"

Malik watched her bounce away and sauntered away. Pascal's mind was brilliantly naive about things unrelated to her research. The kids were rather shy about their feelings in general. Perhaps he should play matchmaker. Naw, too much trouble. Besides, watching their relationship fumbles gave him his only entertainment in a dire situation.

* * *

Pascal stayed behind to work on her project while the group went to finish some inn requests and farm for dualizing materials. Now that their group expanded to a six member roster buying armor and weapons became a costly endeavor. Asbel wasn't the type to choose members over another. No matter, it gave her opportunity to research.

She thumbed through the blueprints she drew up the day before, tossing aside the pages of the failed mechanisms. After sorting through the feasible plans, she stood and walked to the mass of metal. As she kicked a piece of paper, it revealed the back of one of her discarded plans, again with a note written on the back.

_When you smile, my day becomes as bright as the sun. I hope to make you smile everyday._

"They're talking about me," she whispered, "Cheria was right? These are love notes?" She dropped to her knees and searched through the other sheets for any other notes.

_Your scent is rather nice._

She sniffed herself. "I wonder what day he thought was nice?" As of now, she stood at five days without a bath. She bit her lip, what if it was written on a day she took a bath?

_Gentle breeze_

_Carries me _

_As I yearn_

Another poem that could not be about anything but her. She pursed her lips. What is he yearning for?

_The moonlight illuminates you as you fiddle with your creations. It is a most beautiful sight, and one I enjoy to see. _

Pascal stacked the sheets neatly on top of each other. Her heart beat as though she fought a tough monster. She touched her chest thoughtfully. Who could be writing these? And why did they give her a weird feeling when she read them?

* * *

A/N: Thank you for the reviews. They help motivate me to write more. :)


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